MAB: My Absent Beloved
by Miss Twylite Moone
Summary: He forgot to burn me. Or he didn't know he had to. It didn't matter. Even if she was alive, her scent had changed far too much for me to follow. Without her, I had no meaning. If it took the rest of my existence, I would find her. My absent beloved.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is only a preface sort of chapter. The other chapters are going to be longer.

There is a single song that I found to summarize this story. Before you read chapter 1, look up either the song or the lyrics (unless you already know them...) for "Taking Over Me" by Evanescence. It will help you get a feel for the story.

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**Preface-New Orleans, Louisiana, 1920  
**

It was over. Everything. My life and hers. I had fought so hard to protect her and I had failed.

She lay bleeding, in a broken heap in the corner, oblivious to the fight going on right in front of her. The faint smile on her lips told me that she was also oblivious to the fire running through her veins. The distant look in her hazy blue eyes was familiar. She was not seeing what was going on in front of her.

Half my attention was on her, leaving only half to focus on the tracker before me. He was a good fighter. I knew he would win. And when he did, she would die.

The thought of her ceasing to exist invoked a rage deep within me. I charged at the tracker, fury filling my every cell.

The fight began to turn in my favor when I heard her gasp.

"William," she said quietly. I had never heard her address me before. As far as I knew, she never addressed anyone. She wasn't aware of anyone.

I turned to look at her and saw her features distorted with horror and pain. Her face was turned toward me but her eyes were still hazy. In that moment, I knew it was over.

I spent my last moment staring at her. I sensed the tracker behind me. I felt the tearing sensation in my neck. I was aware for just a second longer. Long enough to see my body fall to the floor. In that one second, I could have sworn she looked into my eyes. Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chicago, IL 1921**

I sighed in pleasure as the girl continued to ride me. She was enjoying it as well. I closed my eyes and listened to the moans escaping her. She began to move more quickly, nearing her peak. Her moans escalated to gasps then, all at once, stopped. She was completely still for a moment, then she allowed herself to fall forward onto my chest. Gradually, her breathing slowed and she began to shiver.

Carefully, I moved out from under her and wrapped her in the blanket. She looked at me, smiling, admiration in her eyes.

"You didn't let go, Doctor," she said, still smiling but obviously a bit put out.

"I wasn't going to risk it," I replied, staring into her eyes. After a moment, I had to look away. Her eyes were that familiar shade of piercing blue. The memories hurt. "I thought you said you were a virgin," I said to distract myself.

"I am, or was," she answered, offended.

"You didn't act like it," I said, looking at her again, avoiding her eyes.

"I've always had a vivid imagination," she replied with a chuckle before she gasped and clutched her chest. Instantly, I was in doctor mode. I quickly took her wrist in my hand and laid my head on her chest. Her heartbeat was erratic, worse than before.

As I listened to the minute changes in her body, I came to regret this evening's actions. This morning, there was a chance she would live another few months. Now it was clear she had only days.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," she said sadly. "It won't be around much longer."

"Are you going to wait," I began hesitantly. "Or are you going to..."

"Tomorrow," She said simply.

I frowned. "Do you still have the-- the vile?" I asked, hoping she would say no.

"Yes."

"Are you sure you want to do this? A few more days and-" I stopped, instantly realizing my mistake. Yesterday I told her she still had months. She had been unaware of the change in her body.

"I'm doing it tomorrow morning. I'm tired of suffering."

Instantly, I was angry. I poised myself above her and looked directly in her eyes. "I will _not_ stay with you." I told her harshly.

"I didn't expect you to," she said quietly, a tear rolling down her cheek. Regretfully, I leaned forward and kissed the tear away. As I did, pain shot through me as I realized that I had deprived this girl of so much.

When I first met her, six months ago, she had the chance of living another two or three years. After a few weeks of treating her, I'd realized that I put her in a dangerous situation. I'd become attached. It was a dangerous thing to do considering her fragile nature.* I tried to distance myself from her but it was too late. She complained anytime she was treated by a doctor besides me.

Then she began to notice the similarities. She told me of a doctor who had treated her a few times before the epidemic hit.

"_He was gorgeous. He had pale skin, almost white. His hair was a very light shade of blond. Sometimes his eyes were only a few shades darker than his hair. Other times they were pitch black. It was mid-summer but his hands were always ice-cold, like it was the dead of winter and her forgot to wear gloves…"_

She began questioning me relentlessly. Eventually, she forced the truth out of me. The shock was almost too much for her weak heart to bear. Two or three years turned to five or six months. Now there were only days.

I loathed myself for taking that time from her. If I had kept the truth from her, she would still have years to live. She would have had a chance to fall in love, get married, and maybe even have a child. I had deprived her of all of that. There was no more time for her to have a child. She would never be married. She never even found someone who loved her. I did not love her and she knew it.

I recalled the day she asked me to end her life for her. I was appalled. I was a doctor. The very thought of ending a life was horrific. The idea sickened me and I did not hesitate to tell her so.

"Then provide me the means to do it myself." She demanded of me, a defiant edge in her voice. I quickly denied her the horrid request. She pestered me for the next few weeks, but stopped after she realized I wasn't going to give in. About a week after she stopped asking me for that gruesome favor, she came into my office and presented me with a rather long list. Before I could get a good look at it, she snatched it away and presented me with a deal.

"This is everything I want to do with the rest of my time," She said. "We will do this list together and when it's done, you _will_ give me what I want."

I agreed and gave her what she would need for later. I hoped that if I gave it to her before she could use it, she might misplace it. Apparently I was wrong.

In the beginning, the list was simple; Ice skating in summer, being in two places at once, meeting someone famous. All easily managed. Then it got difficult. Horseback riding, driving a motor bike, and high diving into the ocean were all on her list. I was terrified her heart wouldn't be able to handle it. And then it was awkward. A week alone together in Italy (Venice of course, I wouldn't have risked otherwise), meeting a female of my kind, and last of all, this.

When I realized what exactly she wanted, I held off as long as I could. There were three reasons for this. First; this was the last thing on her list. When it was over, she would end her own life. Second; she was not my wife. I had already taken so much from this girl; it seemed a crime to take her virtue as well. The third and final reason; I was embarrassed. I cared for this girl, it was true, but I did not love her. To display an emotion that wasn't there was not something I approved of. The thought of being intimate with this girl would have made me blush if I were capable.

In the end though, she got what she wanted.

As I lay contemplating all this, the girl began to doze.

"Helen?" Although I spoke as quietly as possible, she bolted upright, breathing heavily. I'd scared her.

"Helen, it's alright. It's just me." I held her face in my hands and waited until her breathing calmed. "I'm sorry I scared you. Are you alright?"

"I'm sure you know better than I do," she answered with a breathless chuckle.

"I'm sure you're right," I answered softly. "Listen, I have to leave now. My shift is starting."

"Okay," she said simply. It was silent for a few minutes as I got my clothes back on. She did not speak until I was at the door.

"Will you come see me after your shift?"

"No," I said simply, not turning to see her reaction. "Good-bye."

I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I was half a block down the street before she began sobbing.

* * *

Nice. My first attempt a um... "Mature topics." *giggle*

Any way... The line with the little star (*) is a paraphrase borrowed from Stephenie Meyer. It came out of New Moon, Page 39. The actual line reads "_I'd grown attached- always a dangerous thing to do considering the fragile nature of humans_." This line was said by Carlisle.

Anyway... I hope _somebody_ out there is reading this...


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: it seems like this chapter is sorta lacking, but I'm not really sure... Please review and tell me what you think.

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**Chicago, IL 1921**

"HI WILL!" Leena shouted at me as I entered the waiting room. She quickly left her station at the counter and rushed up to me. I frowned at her disrespect. We were in a hospital and there were patients waiting for treatment. "So are you staying after your shift or coming back later?" she asked, confusing me.

"For what?" I asked as politely as I could manage. This disrespectful girl irritated me to no end. She was loud, obnoxious, selfish, nosy and...attractive? I shook my head, banishing the unwelcome thought just in time to hear her answer.

"The photograph, of course!" she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Photograph?" I asked, stopping to look her in the eyes. I was startled to see a pair of deep olive green eyes staring back at me. Weren't her eyes muddy brown? I continued to stare, trying to comprehend the change. She began to blush at my sudden attention.

"Umm, well," she said giggling. "Every year we take a photograph of the hospital staff and hang it in the hall. You can go see them if you want."

"I think I'll do that," I responded, still staring.

"Okay, well, I have to get back to work," she said, still giggling. "See you later."

"See you," I said, a moment too late. I was suddenly trapped in my own thoughts, paying no attention to where I was headed.

Leena was beautiful. Why hadn't I noticed before? Why had I noticed now? What had changed? It must have had something to do with Helen and what happened tonight. I had spent more than a year numbing myself to the world, ignoring everything unless it had the possibility of leading me to _her._ Then along comes Helen, stealing my attention, waking me up. I was more aware now. I couldn't **not** pay attention to the people, specifically the women, that surrounded me. I decided that I would allow myself to notice them. This didn't mean I would give up my search for _her,_ but I could allow myself a bit of freedom, I supposed. Of course, I would be thinking of her the entire time, as I had tonight.

As I pulled myself out of my reverie, I noticed where I was for the first time. The North wing, the psychiatric ward. I suppressed a shudder, recalling the two reasons I avoided this place at all costs.

I turned to leave when a thought occurred to me. Since I was already here...

I faced the wall to my left and noticed the grouping of photographs for the first time. There were twelve, each in a simple wooden frame. Beneath each picture there was a bronze plaque bearing the date it was taken and the names of those in it.

I scanned the dates first, quickly finding what I was looking for. January 12, 1918. I looked at the names but none were familiar. I turned my attention to the photo itself and found the person I was looking for.

The man was easy to spot, his pale hair as bright as a light house beacon. I knew immediately it was him. He had a slight smile on his face. No human could hold a smile long enough for a photograph to be taken.

I looked at the plaque again and quickly found his name. Dr. Cullen, the plaque said. The name brought forth an uncalled memory.

_I was bringing her back to her room (cell would have been a more appropriate term, I thought.) after another episode of me smashing the "shock machine" as she called it in her rare moments of awareness. I hated seeing her in pain like that. As I laid her on the tiny bed that was far too small, even for her pixie frame, she began giggling._

"_He's gonna be my dad," she giggled. Her clear blue eyes were hazy, distant. _

"_Who?" I asked, smiling slightly. I liked when she had visions like this. It was the only time we ever came close to having a real conversation._

_She turned toward me and whispered, "Dr. Cullen," before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep._

_That was the day Cynthia showed up._

I frowned at the golden haired man staring out of the photograph at me. I would have to learn more about him. Perhaps, if I found him, I would find her.

I turned to leave the hall, but paused once again as a thought popped into my head. I stood deliberating for a moment, wondering if it was a smart choice. _The hell with it, _I thought after a moment. I walked into the ward and was greeted by the shocked look on Anthony's face. My distaste for this particular ward was no secret.

"Yeah, she's here," he said after a moment of awkward silence. I nodded to the young man and turned toward my goal. If I did force myself into this ward, it was only for one reason and Anthony knew that. This ward was not like Whitfield. People came here if they were suffering from something like psychiatric shock. If someone was in Whitfield, they were crazy. Most of the staff weren't even sensitive about it. They just called the patients crazy. Even if it was different, I still didn't like it.

I stood before the door to the room that was my destination and took a deep, unnecessary breath. Then, I slowly entered.

The patient was a woman in her early forties. She was here because she was suffering from post-traumatic stress. Several years ago, her husband had told her their older daughter had died. Two years ago, she learned that this was not actually the case. She had searched for any sign of her. Almost a year ago, she learned that her daughter was in Whitfield. By the time she managed to get this information, she was too late. All the staff could tell her when she arrived was that her daughter was gone. She was barely hanging on when she finally confronted her husband. He responded to her accusation by shooting himself right in front of her. It pushed her over the edge.

Last time I was here, almost two months ago, she still hadn't recovered.

As I entered the room, my eyes traveled past the patient and to her young daughter. She sat dozing in a hard plastic chair beside her mother's bed. Her long black hair was spread out, creating a curtain around her face.

I tried to not startle her when I cleared my throat in attempt to wake her. It didn't work. She must have jumped a foot off the chair.

She searched the room wildly, looking for the source of the sudden shock. When her clear blue eyes landed on me, she flashed a sad smile.

"Hello, Cynthia," I said, acknowledging the girl. "How have you been?"


	4. Chapter 4

This is a flashback chapter, so don't let it confuse you. Make sure you're paying attention to the Year/Place cause there will be more flashbacks later. Plus there's **a lot **of "coincidences" coming so...

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**Whitfield, MS 1919**

It was the end of my shift. I had just laid the poor girl down to sleep and was preparing to leave when I entered the waiting room and saw her.

She was sitting with her head bowed, her long black hair forming a curtain around her face. She couldn't have been more than sixteen. She looked up at the sound of my approach and I stopped in my tracks at the sight of her clear blue eyes.

After a moment of staring at each other, she finally spoke.

"I'm looking for my sister," she said morosely, her voice breaking. "Her name is Alice."

I stared at her, completely clueless. I had been certain...

"Well, that's not actually her name," she said in a rush, interrupting my thought. "I just call her that. I always have. It's her middle name. Her name is actually Mary. Mary Brandon. Do you know if she is here?"

"Yes," I said, pulling myself out of my stupor. "Yes she's here but she's asleep right now. If you come back tom--"

"No," she said frantically. "No, I have to see her today. Now. There's no time!" as she spoke, her eyes clouded over in a familiar way. "Please," she added desperately.

After a moment of thought, I nodded and motioned for her to follow me. Neither of us spoke as I lead her down the hallway. When we arrived at the door to "Room" 1214, I slowly unlocked the door.

As I expected, she was sitting up, apparently waiting for us. I noticed immediately that her eyes were not clouded over, but she was smiling anyway. That never happened. She _never_ smiled without a vision showing her a more hopeful future.

Slowly, the even smaller girl (if that were possible) stepped forward and knelt before her sister.

"Alice?" she asked gently. "It's Cynthia. Remember? Cyndi Lou?"

The girl on the bed giggled, before leaning toward her sister and whispering, "October 29. Don't let it get ya." before falling backward onto her bed and laughing hysterically. I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me to prevent the sound from traveling down the hall and alerting my superiors. I had already been caught here when I wasn't supposed to be, and I didn't want it to happen again.

The older girl had stopped laughing and watched me in my actions. She looked intently at me before opening her mouth as if she was going to say something. Before she could speak, her eyes clouded over and a look of horror crossed her features.

"Oh god, no!" She gripped her hair in her hands and started screaming. "He said I was safe here!"

"Well, he was wrong!" Cynthia shouted in response, trying to pry her sisters hands from her head.

Quickly, I stepped over and scooped up the screaming girl. Then I did the only thing that ever calmed her. I hummed her song. I would have sang it, but it would have been embarrassing to do so in front of a total stranger. It didn't matter, though. With or without the words, the song worked. She was suddenly calm. A little too calm. I glanced down at her, afraid I had held her too tightly, but was relieved to find that she had fallen asleep. I laid her on the bed then covered her with the thin, threadbare blanket, before turning to her sister and indicating that we should leave.

As soon as we were back in the waiting room, I turned on the girl called Cynthia.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked fiercely, a growl escaping as I spoke.

"I have to get her out of here. It's not safe!" The desperate tone returned to her voice and her eyes once again clouded over.

"Why the hell not?" I asked, getting more pissed by the second. It irritated me to no end when someone said anything around me wasn't safe. I took me a moment to realize that she still hadn't answered me. I looked at her and saw that her eyes were still clouded over. Her pupils had dilated so much, they almost eliminated the ice blue completely, and her brow was furrowed in deep concentration as she saw, no, _looked_ for what was coming.

"Tomorrow," she said softly. "Tomorrow, you must take her outside. For a walk. Go close to the forest. When no one is looking, take her and run. Do it before 1:34 PM _exactly._" She blinked and her eyes returned to normal for just a second before tears began to well up in them. "Please," she whispered. "Please save my sister." I was too dumbfounded to do anything but nod. "Thank you." She whispered, a small smile gracing her face as the tears began to spill over. Before I could blink, she was gone. She moved so fast that, if I hadn't heard her heartbeat, I would have thought she wasn't human.

The next day, we went for a walk. It was exceptionally overcast, so I was perfectly safe. As we walked, she stared up at the sky, smiling. Her eyes were clear today, clouding over occasionally, bringing random bits of odd information; there would be rain tonight, Dr. Jason was finally going to propose, the café down the street was closing, and another strange warning about October 29. Nothing useful. As the clock tower in town sounded the quarter hour, I knew it was time to go. I headed toward the first of the trees, pulling her behind me.

"Say good-bye to Whitfield, Mary," I whispered to her as she giggled. "You won't ever have to see it again."

"Yay," she whispered enthusiastically. Her eyes were clouded so I knew she wasn't responding to my words. "I've always wanted to see Mardi Gras!" I chuckled at her statement. I guess I knew where we were going.

Carefully, I picked up her slight frame and began to run.

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**OMG! second post today! (Not for this story... Check out the other one!) Please review. I'm considering putting in a real "Lemon" and i need to know if anyone wants that... THANKS FOR READING... More to come soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is about a hundred words too short for my liking but whatever.**

**At the end, there's going to be a little bit of info on Will. Someone asked who he is so I came up with the info.**

**In this chapter, you'll get a look at Will's power.**

**Chicago, IL 1921**

"I'm sorry," I said to the girl standing before me.

"It's not your fault," she told me.

"Yes, it is," I mumbled to myself as she shook her head. This was our usual greeting. She seemed to get angrier every time we had this exchange. She didn't blame me for anything. She should have. It _was_ my fault.

Without speaking, I picked up the charts from their place at the end of the bed and began checking the unconscious woman's vitals. I frowned as I documented the information. She wasn't going to get better. They would want to move her soon. I admitted as much to the girl.

"Maybe," she began looking at the ground. "Maybe you could…" she trailed off, seeming unwilling to continue. I didn't understand. Then, when I didn't answer, she looked at me and I knew what she wanted.

"No," I said angrily.

"I knew you would say that," She sighed, already resigned.

"Then why ask?" I wondered.

"Sometimes I want my visions to be wrong," she muttered, shrugging.

As I continued what I was doing, I wondered why I bothered to come here. I wasn't being useful. In fact, hadn't I just proven I was doing more harm? If Cynthia thought I would end her mother's life, she was dead wrong. I was a doctor, damn it! Why didn't people get that? I was supposed to be saving lives, not destroying them.

Suddenly I felt something that didn't fit into the atmosphere. It was hard to tell exactly what it was since my ability wasn't overly defined, but there was definitely something there. I concentrated and felt the…hope? There was also a bit of … fear maybe? I turned to Cynthia, knowing she was the only source. She was smiling timidly at me. She wanted something.

"Would you mind doing me a favor?" she asked. She already knew the answer but she had to ask anyway.

"That depends on what it is," I said hesitantly.

"Nothing much," she said, smiling a bit more. "Would you go to my uncle's grave for me? I haven't been able to go for a while and I want to make sure it's being looked after."

"Of course," I said without having to think about it. If this was all she was going to ask for, I was happy to give it. I prepared to leave when something occurred to me. "Is this your mother's brother?"

"Her twin," she said looking at the floor. "He died during the epidemic." Then she told me her uncle's name.

* * *

I got out of the hospital as quickly as possible when my shift was over. I didn't want to see Leena again just yet.

I was slightly afraid as I entered the cemetery. I knew this man, not on a personal level, but had treated him and his sister numerous times when I was first starting out. I honestly didn't know anything about him, but I had known his wife. We had been lovers. Nothing committed, just sex. Then she met him, and it was over. When she told me she was going to marry him, I decided to leave. That's when I ended up in Mississippi. I traveled around the state for a few years before finding myself in Whitfield.

I came out of my brief revere as I arrived at the grave site. My fears were realized as I saw the second grave marker bearing the name of the woman who had been my lover. The stones were still in good condition, without dirt or weeds covering them. In front of each stone, there was a single rose. It was not wilted. Someone had been here recently. Carefully, I picked up one of the roses and sniffed it. The scent was unknown to me, but still familiar. I shrugged it off for the moment and left the flowers I brought.

As I turned to leave the cemetery, the wind changed direction, bringing that same unknown scent with it. I turned toward the scent but the source was gone. Before I could turn away, a hint of red caught my eye. I looked and saw that it was a rose lying on a grave marker. It hadn't been there a moment ago. I smelled the rose, although I was certain I would find the same scent. This time I recognized why it was familiar. The scent was dangerously similar to that of the woman who had been my lover. I recalled that she had a sister. Unfortunately, that didn't make sense of anything. Her sister had died _many_ years before. I shrugged it off, knowing I didn't have time to wonder with the sun about to rise. I laid the rose back on the grave marker and read the stone. I felt my heart crumple with despair as I finished reading. I turned and left the cemetery as I thought about how the poor woman had wasted her life.

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**Ok here are a few random things to know about Will:**

**Full Name:** Dr. William Jackson Duboux

**Born: **February 2, 1860

**Hometown: **Houston, Texas

**Turned:** 1881 (age 22)


	6. Chapter 6

**Been a little while right? Sorry. Well here's the next installment! Hope you like!**

**There's more info about Will at the bottom.**

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**Aurora, IL 1892**

We were sitting in a small café in the heart of the city. Neither of us had ever been here before. We never met in the same place twice.

"I'm engaged," she told me as she picked apart the muffin sitting in front of her.

I frowned at her announcement. "You swore you would never be married," I complained.

"Well, I was wrong," she muttered, taking a small bite of her muffin. I frowned at the action. Casually, I rested my hand on hers and watched as she shuddered from the cold. She refused to look at me.

"Why?" I asked, after a moment awkward silence. She knew I wasn't asking why she was wrong.

"He would have died if I hadn't," she mumbled, taking another bite of her muffin.

"That is the way it's supposed to be for humans," I whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

"Then, that's my way now," she responded confidently. "I will live as long as he does. When he dies, I shall too."

"Don't damn yourself with those words, Lizzie. You will end up regretting them."

"You don't understand!" She was nearly shouting. The other customers in the café were staring. She blushed and stared down at her lap before continuing in a whisper. "You don't know what it's like. The moment I met him, I knew I wouldn't be able to live without him. I knew from what the tests said that he wasn't going to survive the month. Now he will. He'll get to live a full, _human_ life and I will get to share that with him." Suddenly, she looked up at me, her eyes blazing with intensity. "You don't understand, and you won't ever unless you feel it for yourself." I glared at her as I heard the double meaning of her words.

"Well, I guess I won't ever understand, will I?" I practically growled. Without waiting for a response, I stood and quickly left the café.

* * *

I had wandered around the town for a few hours before going over to the hospital. Even though I was though I was only a psyche doctor for now, I felt I had found a way of contradicting what I was. Being at the hospital usually calmed me. It wouldn't today. Today, I was going for a different reason entirely.

Without hesitation I went directly to the custodial area. A friend of mine worked here. Despite his intellect and "dazzling" ability, as Kim called it, his race prevented him from being more than a custodian. I didn't quite understand why, considering the fact that the war had been over for decades and we were in the home state of the great President Lincoln himself. I shrugged the thought off momentarily and knocked on the "office" door.

"What do you want this time?" Anthony asked, almost before the door was open.

"Can't I simply visit a friend?" I asked, semi-innocently.

"No," he answered, but he opened the door and allowed me to enter the closet sized room anyway. "So what's eaten' you, man?" he asked in a way I found incredibly odd. Of course, in the twenty odd years that I've known him, he always used a slang that was ahead of its time.

"She's getting married," I said, getting right to the point.

"Course she is, man," he answered with a cocky grin. "You mess around with a gorgeous single lady like that, you're bound to lose her if you don't commit to the fling."

"What?" I asked incredulously, having only understood half of what he said.

"Who's the guy?" he asked instead.

"I don't know," I answered simply.

"And that's why you need me." He answered. "What do you know about him?"

"Not much. He is, or was, a patient here that was dying and is suddenly much better."

"No way, man! Don't tell me she Transcended!"

"Yea, she did." An awkward silence filled the room as Anthony thought on what I said.

"It would have to be him," he finally muttered. "The guy from 233. I heard them saying he wasn't going to survive only a week ago, but he checked out today, completely healthy. I wondered what was going on."

I simply nodded. I knew this guy. I was assigned to help him cope with the trauma of dying. Because I was only a psyche doctor, I didn't really understand what was wrong with him, I only knew it was bad. I remember meeting with him and his sister a few times when they were younger, after their father was murdered. I remember how well he learned to cope with the situation. His sister, however, never truly recovered. If life gave her too much more, she would break.

"At least Miss Possenti got him and not some creep," Anthony muttered.

"Yes," I answered. At least there was that.

* * *

I sat on the Houston bound train and contemplated what I would do next. First, I would visit Kim and Tom. I would have to go by my mother's grave. Maybe I'd stop by and see Jackie. He would enjoy seeing me, even if Barbara would throw a fit. Of course, she might have died between now and the last time I'd been there.

I sighed as I thought about where I was going and what I was leaving behind. It was a bit taxing, moving around all the time, but if I wanted to keep from being discovered, I had no choice. I idly wondered if there was a way out. I mean, if Lizzie could Transcend, why couldn't I? The answer to that was obvious. Lizzie was already half human so it would be easy for her to go one way or the other. Is there a way out for those of us who are full on trapped? Who knows. Besides, why would I want to be human again? All weak and helpless. I was happy they way I was. Nothing was going to change that.

Lizzie was right, I would never understand what prompted her to do it. As the train traveled further south, I vaguely wondered if there was more to this Edward Masen guy than I first thought.

* * *

**More info about Will. This time it's people.**

**His mother's name was Ann Duboux.**

**Kimberly(Kim) is his aunt. Tom is her son.**

**Jackson(Jackie) is the son he had before he was turned. Barbara was his wife.**


End file.
